


former intern, Akaashi Keiji

by caeos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (spoilers for the current manga arc), Canon Related, Fluff and Humor, Journalist Akaashi Keiji, M/M, POV Outsider, Pro Volleyball Player Bokuto Koutarou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caeos/pseuds/caeos
Summary: Akaashi interns as a sports journalist during his second year of university but his bias towards acertainBlack Jackals outside hitter keeps getting him in trouble.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 49
Kudos: 415





	former intern, Akaashi Keiji

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up! I have never written anything like this and I do not know why I was compelled to, it kinda explains itself so basically it’s just written in first person from an outside perspective and mostly in present tense, none of which I usually do lmao.  
> Also I know nothing about journalism! I know nothing about university, I never even went! I am Jared, 19, who never fucking learned how to read.  
> I just had this headcanon of Akaashi trying to get into sports journalism and it all kinda declined from there. Enjoy ~

Statements regarding the sports journalism internship of Akaashi Keiji and his recent dismissal from our company, written by Shinohara Kento, Division One Seasonal Director at Volleyball Monthly.  
Akaashi Keiji, aged twenty upon the start of his internship with us, was insistent on his desires to join our volleyball correspondents who were following this summer’s national games. Given his history with the sport, the passion of his request, and his talent for the written word we acquiesced and he was partnered with junior reporter Tanaka Natsuki and supervised by the chief editor, Nakajima Hina.  
As follows are the statements collected from those who witnessed or were directly affected by Akaashi’s conduct during his time with us.  
  
  


**Statement #1:** Tanaka Natsuki  
  
  


Aside from connecting with our recruitment staff prior to joining our team, Tanaka Natsuki was first to meet our former intern, Akaashi Keiji, face to face.  
  
“He was a real closed book,” Natsuki states, following his assessment with ‘flailing’ motions and requests that I stop writing — which I sternly remind him is a serious neglect of duty to factual reporting — before continuing, “he was just a reserved guy! I don’t think I saw him smile until... well, until we were courtside.”  
  
For the record, Akaashi attended the first division qualifier match between the MSBY Black Jackals and the Sendai Blue Bottles. This is where the problems with our intern began.  
  
“I mean, he was excited,” Natsuki replies in response to my questions about Akaashi’s emotional state, though he sounds uncertain, as though ‘excited’ is not quite the word to describe it. “But who wouldn’t be?” Natsuki continues, “even for the qualifier matches those courts are _huge,_ enough to shake up a young, rookie reporter.”  
  
Supervisor Nakajima Hina was not present for this match as, per prediction, the Blue Bottles were utterly destroyed from the offset by the Jackals and couldn’t secure a single set.  
  
“Perhaps he was a little unprofessional.” Again, uncertainty taints Natsuki’s voice and he refuses to meet my eye, though wishes that fact to be struck from the record. It will not be. I will not have my junior try and tamper with the truth, he sighs in defeat before continuing. “It wasn’t anything bad! He just… _cried_ after the match, as though he were _elated_ by the Jackals win. Sir, you know I’m a super fan but this was _something else._ ” He emphasises those last two words, as if shook to his core by the emotional response from his junior.  
I prompt him to describe the first written report by Akaashi Keiji.  
“Look,” Natsuki begins, hands held out as though in surrender, clearly ready to defend the naive actions of his junior, “they weren’t naive!” He insists, peering over at my screen, I request he sits back down.  
Statement continues:  
“He wasn’t naive, it was _passion._ Sir, you know I have my own bias for the Jackals but I keep that stuff out of my writing, Keiji wrote like the Jackals were the only ones on the court, well,” Natsuki catches himself, and this is the part where our troubles truly began. “Not even the jackals, just _him._ ”  
  
Once more, I prompt him to elaborate for the record.  
  
“Bokuto Koutarou. He is _obsessed_ with Bokuto Koutarou.”  
  
  


**Statement #2:** Tanaka Natsuki & Nakajima Hina  
  
  


“It was after the second game that you became aware of Akaashi’s behaviour, yes, Nakajima-san?” I prompt.  
She’s on her phone, no doubt texting an important client or maybe just ordering lunch in for the office — as is her compassionate and inscrutable nature. Nakajima Hina is the grease that keeps the wheels turning in our department, all reports and articles must go through her; her record is pristine and perfect and she is never one to waver when an employee threatens that standard. Yet even she was left baffled in the short time she spent supervising former intern, Akaashi Keiji.  
  
“It was,” Natsuki pipes up, answering my previous question that had gone ignored by our darling editor. “It seemed we’d be following the Jackals through the league, so after witnessing his behaviour at the previous match I requested Nakajima-san join us.”  
  
“I had nothing better on so I chaperoned them,” Nakajima adds, sliding her phone into her stylish yet practical work bag. “Akaashi Keiji intrigued me, he was only in his second year of university but his writing was beautiful and well structured, the only thing he appeared to be lacking was confidence and experience, both of which I could help flourish here. Still, when Natsuki expressed concerns I thought I should see for myself.”  
  
The second match attended by Akaashi Keiji was the MSBY Black Jackals against the Red Eyed Adders, which promised to offer more of a fight than the Blue Bottles had put up.  
Again, I asked about Akaashi’s emotional state before and during the match.  
  
“He fiddles,” Nakajima hisses. “I cannot stand those who fiddle.”  
  
“I think he was just nervous, ma’am,” Natsuki, once more, is more than eager to interrupt his seniors in order to defend his new _friend._ “He’s not my friend, I just feel for the kid!” He adds in vain, I will have to question his loyalties later.  
“Either way,” Natsuki continues, shooting me an evil look as he reads the preceding lines in the report. “The poor guy kept picking at his fingers at the end of the first set, the scores were tight and that spiker, Bokuto Koutarou, wasn’t as… _lively_ as usual. But I wasn’t really paying attention to him, sure he’s impressive and all but Miya Atsumu was up to serve and that guy is lethal!”  
  
Noticing his idolisation, Nakajima shoots him a look and I take the opportunity to ask whether this is when they noticed Akaashi Keiji was missing. They respond affirmatively.  
  
“I was taking an important business call and assumed Natsuki was competent enough to not lose an entire human intern in my absence. I assumed wrong.  
I returned to find my junior reporter drooling over that bleached blond twunk and the intern I had been entrusted to supervise missing!” Nakajima takes a moment, breathing deeply before continuing with her memory of events. “That’s when we spotted our wayward student on the sidelines and, as Miya Atsumu raised his arm for silence, our intern let out an indescribable screech, the subject of which I can’t recall.”  
  
Natsuki mumbles in response and I remind him of the importance of speaking up and making his voice heard. “Onigiri. He yelled ‘onigiri’ and pointed vigorously at _that spiker._ ”  
  
“Bokuto Koutarou?” I enquire.  
  
“Bokuto Koutarou.” Natsuki confirms.  
  
We take a moment of silence at that name, the name that single-handedly ruined our entire internship program without ever even signing up for it. Bokuto Koutarou, the beginning of our end.  
Both Natsuki and Hina are staring at the floor, as if reliving their ordeal, I almost feel guilty as I ask what happened next.  
  
“What happened next-?!” Nakajima begins in a rage, instantly placated by Natsuki who sheepishly recalls the events.  
  
“We were floored, all of us, even security! Do you want to know the weirdest thing?” I nod though I’m in disbelief that this can get weirder. “Atsumu _listened_ to him, he actually made the coach call for a timeout and went to the sidelines to talk to Akaashi. That’s not even the end! So they have their conversation, right? Then Akaashi just dashes off again and Atsumu goes up to serve like nothing even happen and you know who appears next? Miya freakin’ Osamu! And what does he do? He pitches a paper bag of onigiri at his brother so hard I think it’s going to burst on impact, but mostly I’m thinking about how toned his forearms must be-”  
  
“Either way,” Nakajima interrupts. “The Miya twins upset play for a good five minutes — which doesn’t sound that long but I encourage you to count every second, all _three hundred_ of them, and share in our agony — all the while the Adders looked too bewildered to even begin arguing with the umpire. All this to say, that Koutarou boy perked up instantly and, in the midst of the sibling induced chaos, took a bite of onigiri.”  
  
I gasp, I’m not sure why, that wasn’t the most dramatic piece of this story yet still I am floored. “And then what?”  
  
“Then we found our intern,” Natsuki says softly. “He let out this sigh, like the weight of the word had just been lifted from his shoulders. We hadn’t even heard him fall in line beside us again but he was just _looking_ at that spiker, that Bokuto, like he hung the stars in the sky. His cheeks were red, maybe just from the exertion of running from security, but for a moment I could swear he was _blushing,_ sir. He looked… he looked really happy.”  
  
Despite myself, I feel a warm smile creep on the corners of my lips, it all sounded rather… sweet. Then Nakajima promptly demands I wipe that insufferable grin from my face and I obey without question, it appears that was not the end of their tale.  
  
“And what happened next, Natsuki?” She coos, the phrase _‘said the spider to the fly’_ comes to mind at her tone of voice. Natsuki shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
“The Jackals won the match?” He offered in a placating whine.  
  
“I meant to us!” Hina clarifies sharply.  
  
“We were… traced by security and _escorted_ from the premises.”  
  
“Thrown!” Nakajima interjects. “We were _thrown_ from the premises, Natsuki! I had to explain to head office that we were, in fact, licensed reporters and not insane fans that intended to storm the court and incite an onigiri based disturbance!”  
  
A silence falls over all of us as Nakajima catches her breath and straightens her glasses, Natsuki is the first to break.  
  
“Akaashi was really sorry,” Natsuki begins, head hung low but he appears to be addressing Hina. “He went back, to the stadium, walked himself up to the head of security and all but offered himself up on a plate. Said he’d do anything to make sure this wouldn’t create any backlash or complications for our company in the future.”  
  
Nakajima tenses, looking searchingly over her junior. “... He did?”  
  
Her voice is no longer cold and detached, I’d push it to even say she sounds regretful.  
  
“I didn’t quite understand. He just started spouting something about _‘Bokuto-san’_ looking dejected and that he was certain Osamu had set up shop _after_ the Jackals’ team had arrived so _he_ probably hadn’t eaten but then he just started _blushing_ again and he looked so flustered that I just kinda... walked backwards out the room and never brought it up again!”  
  
“He really is quite odd,” Nakajima hums, nodding.  
  
We all nod in agreement, the motion comforting us like a baby being rocked gently in its crib.  
  
“Wait, Shino, didn’t you have an encounter with him too?” Natsuki asks, I can feel my face pale and I’m reminded of… The Article.  
  
  


**Statement #3:** Shinohara Kento  
  
  


Akaashi Keiji, despite his oddities, was truly a diligent worker in his time with us. All his columns on local teams were well composed and clearly heartfelt — even Hina enjoyed reading them. That persistence is why we let him go to the semi-finals, the MSBY Black Jackals vs the Saitama Lions. But my statement is not about that, I am a director, I direct but do not venture out myself. My statement is about the resulting article that I received from our former intern, Akaashi Keiji.  
  
From all reports, Akaashi’s behaviour was a lot _tamer_ at this match so I was looking forward to reading his report on the game, he has an almost poetic turn of phrase when talking about volleyball and I was intrigued to know that would translate onto one of the most anticipated matches of the season. Sometimes it is better not to wonder, I would soon find that out.  
  
I received his report promptly, one copy printed, stapled together and set neatly on my desk and the other sitting in my email inbox upon my arrival into the office that morning. That _fateful_ morning.  
The weather was wonderful, I pulled up my chair to the window in my office, set my coffee down on the table beside me and began to read.  
  
Now… as for coverage of the match it was an engaging read, his words were dynamic and the flow of his sentences held the reader at the pace of the game, he truly is a wonderful writer. As for the descriptions of the Jackals’ outside hitter? Those I could have gone without.  
As previously mentioned I hold no prejudice to writers with a poetic flair, I enjoyed his descriptions of how Bokuto Koutarou appeared to “soar through the air like a bird of prey, aloft under the stadium lights on unseen wings, blustered by the rush of the crowd like thermal winds rising up through his flight feathers with each jump.”  
Those tamer descriptions I could let slide, how his “strong arms cut through the air, spiking with a power that is felt in the gut rather than simply observed with the eyes.”  
  
It is the latter half of the report where things take a turn for the… raunchier.  
  
Again Akaashi describes the build up to Bokuto’s jump only this time, rather than his technique, it’s as if Akaashi eyes were snagged on his clothes. I’m reading it now, how when Bokuto made a move to spike, allegedly, “his form is perfection at his peak, I’m reminded of statues of Greek gods yet they all fall short of the visage before me. Bokuto’s arms are taught like a bowstring, the sweat of his exertion making his jersey stick to him like a second skin. The black is striking, I’m caught on all the places it rides up at his navel and above the dimples at the base of his back, tempting, like the sliver of skin at the tops of those insufferable kneepads that strain against the muscle they swathe, hoarding it greedily for their own. He’s all muscle but I can’t stop coming back to those thighs, how it might feel to…”  
… The quote goes on but due to the nuances of language between generational gaps I feel as though I should give our former intern the benefit of the doubt and cut his tangent short — I’m sure having someone ‘sit on your face’ has perfectly professional connotations for the younger generations. I’ll be sure interrogate Natsuki about it later.  
  
Regardless, I felt this report was biased at best and tactless at worst, if it were printed we’d no doubt be a laughing stock. When Akaashi enquired about his article I politely explained that whilst his writing is of a publishable standard I’d feel better if he revised his subject matter before being put to print. He took a moment to process my comments when the redness occurred, that feverish blush that overtook his cheeks and the tops of his ears -- eyes blown wide in some mortified realisation as he tapped frantically on his phone before blabbering out an apology and vacating the corridor he’d found himself cornered in.  
I think this may have been the blush Natsuki referred to, the one mismatched with Akaashi usual sedate nature. Quite troubling indeed.  
  
  


**Statement #4:** Tanaka Natsuki & Nakajima Hina, in collaboration with Shinohara Kento  
  
  


This is our department's final statement regarding former intern, Akaashi Keiji. Following this incident we felt it best to _let him go_ from our internship program with heavy hearts.  
The statement follows the final match we attended with our former intern. I myself, Shinohara Kento, as active director during this season’s games, elected to attend the final in person.  
With mixed feelings from myself, Natsuki, and Nakajima, we were once again about to witness the Black Jackals in action — this time against the Tokyo Red Geckos.  
  
“Seriously, sir, how did you get those seats?!” Natsuki interrupts _rudely,_ shrinking internally as I berate him via written report before explaining my connections with the Jackals’ coach, which is why, as inferred by my junior, we had some truly spectacular courtside seats.  
In fact, at one point Miya Atsumu himself jogged over and waved at our very own junior reporter, Tanaka Natsuki, who nearly passed out on the spot!  
  
“I did not!” He argues in a futile attempt to restore his dignity.  
  
“You turned redder than the Geckos' jerseys,” Nakajima dutifully retorts, Natsuki flails and blushes once more but eventually falls quiet under our combined scrutiny.  
  
For the record, he blushed _super hard_ and it was _really embarrassing_ for him — factually speaking, of course.  
  
In actuality we were so distracted by teasing Tanaka that we didn’t notice our intern rising to his feet and calling out after the setter.  
  
“Atsumu!” Akaashi shouted, lost to the sea of fans chanting the same thing but somehow gaining his attention almost instantly. “If you want to win,” he began, smiling in a devious way that was almost more unnerving than his blushing, “give him my love.”  
  
In response Miya Atsumu rolled his eyes, as expected but then… nodded. Just once, as if signalling an indistinct affirmative, and Akaashi returned to his seat seemingly satisfied.  
  
“I was shook,” Natsuki says, I remind him firstly to speak with proper grammar and follow up by reminding him not to interrupt me whilst I’m writing.  
  
The match, well, the match was a spectacle. Though I suppose you can read our article about it so I won’t dive into the details. It all began with Bokuto’s serve, the knife’s edge for this report.  
  
“Bokuto’s serve is _nasty,_ I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that,” Natsuki offers, whilst his opinion doesn’t matter in this scenario he does raise an important fact; Bokuto’s serve is ferocious, as much as I critiqued our intern I see now why he compared Bokuto Koutarou to a bird of prey.  
Regardless, after a brief glance in our direction, Bokuto made the biggest whiff of this season, missing the ball entirely and nearly tumbling over it on the descent — Akaashi cringed beside me, I didn’t blame him.  
  
That’s when it happened.  
  
“Keiji!” Bokuto had called once stable on his feet, nearly spooking our intern out of his skin as all eyes, including our own, locked onto the young man. “If I get this one in… will you marry me?”  
  
It was a shock to say the least. Like a freight train to the chest, stealing the air from our lungs as though they were never fit to breathe in our atmosphere at all.  
  
“I nearly shit my pants,” Natsuki puts it colourfully, though this time I must say it’s an apt description of our response. On the other hand stood Akaashi, unshakeable as ever.  
  
Still, despite the whooping and hollering at Bokuto’s proposal all seemed to fall silent around us, a held breath between us all with Akaashi doing little but stare on, unconcerned. Content, like a cat lying in the perfect patch of sunlight, like a stray dog who’d finally found his way home.  
  
With equal composure, I _calmly_ gave a swift yet assertive chop to his flank and hissed, “answer him!”  
  
Whether prompted by me or simply answering in his own time Akaashi simply said, “get it in first, then I’ll give you my answer.”  
  
Bokuto wailed but he was smiling, no, _beaming._ His grin was all tooth and stretched from ear to ear as he reeled back an earth shattering serve that I have trouble reporting even now. The speed of that serve alludes the written word, I don’t know if I actually even witnessed it.  
  
“I heard it,” Nakajima interjects, though lacking that blunt edge to her words, softened by pure awe, “like the crack of a whip or the rumble of thunder. A serve like that… a serve like that doesn’t get picked up by its opposing team.”  
  
And it didn’t. That volleyball sailed off into the crowd and found its new owner in the palms of a young girl, decked in Jackals gear, who looked loath to part with it.  
But Bokuto didn’t regard her at all, already his eyes were fixed on our intern, our Akaashi Keiji. Or rather, I thought, as Akaashi nodded his head gently with a smile that spoke of tenderness and affection that I could not fathom between the two, _his_ Akaashi Keiji.  
Just like that, the biggest twist to volleyball since the rise of little giants erupted through the stadium as security could do little but watch the jubilation of both the team and their fans.  
  
Natsuki is crying, he insists that he always cries and weddings and I remind him that they are not married yet.  
  
“Write about the kiss!” He exclaims between sobs. As is my creed, I suppose I must.  
  
See the proposal was only heard for a few rows back, I may have even considered keeping Akaashi on — minus the waxing poetic about his now fiance — if it had only been the proposal. But, as all things with a beginning, there was an end to that game. The Jackals won and for once in my rigid, unbiased career I found myself cheering for them as well, a momentary blip in my composure as the fans cried out as one.  
However, in this lapse of correct professional conduct, we were reminded that Akaashi really does need to be equipped with a toddler harness, as when I turned to congratulate him on the win he was already gone, hurdling the barriers around the edge of the court and sprinting full pace into his boyfriend’s open arms.  
He was picked up like leaves caught in a sudden spiralling gust, twirled through the air as he wrapped his legs about Bokuto’s waist and kissed him with a feverish passion.  
  
All of which, as is customary for first division games, was broadcast on national TV. A volleyball star proposing to his high school sweetheart after winning his debut season at nationals — needless to say that is not a story that the public lets go of with any ease.  
  
Bokuto Koutarou and his manager have since made a statement to the media which, when broadcast, reminded me of a parent catching their child with his hand in the cookie jar — Bokuto looked suitably apologetic for the chaos his impromptu proposal caused but lacked the gleam of guilt in his eyes that may have persuaded me to forgive him. I highly doubt he regrets his actions nor ever will.  
  
Against the odds, Akaashi Keiji returned to the office with us that evening, politely declining to answer Natsuki’s incessant badgering about Black Jackal Setter Miya Atsumu’s relationship status.  
  
“It was journalistic curiosity!” Natsuki exclaims, red as a bell pepper.  
  
Regardless our offices were swarmed with reporters… or at least more than are actually employed here, meaning to say we were ruthlessly invaded by larger companies looking to secure a scoop!  
This is where we courteously requested that Akaashi finished his internship with us early and quickly came to a mutually beneficial agreement. We got our offices back, free from nosy interlopers and he got all his university credits with the addition of a month or so spare to spend with his betrothed. Despite it all, I speak for all my colleagues in wishing them all the happiness in the world.  
  
  


**Statement #5:** Concluding Thoughts  
  
  


Former intern, Akaashi Keiji is a talented writer with many transferable skills and whilst we can’t say we understand him in the slightest we will certainly miss him. However, I cannot recommend that he EVER be allowed to report on the MSBY Black Jackals as long as his fiance continues to play for them, lest another editor face the visceral bias we were forced to read.  
We wish the newly engaged couple all the best and Natsuki can’t wait to report on their wedding. Akaashi Keiji is a young man with the whole world ahead of him and I am only thankful that he has _his_ world beside him for wherever the future may lead them.

\- Report Ends -

**Author's Note:**

> me naming all the opposing teams: uhhhhh, [adjective] [animal name] send post.
> 
> also i'm just a little bundle of nerves at the moment for various reasons but i figured i better post this and save it from being lost in my wips forever, all comments and kudos are appreciated very much!! find me on [tumblr](https://ccaeos.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
